


Except In You

by Panthyr (Nightmare)



Category: DCU (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightmare/pseuds/Panthyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is said that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Maybe not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Except In You

**Except In You.**

 

_There is no color in my world, except in you._

The world is muted hues, a dull landscape, blending gray on tan on gray, with no contrast to catch my eye. _Except..._

In the shimmering shades of topaz in your hair. The crystal gems of your eyes, the warm tones of your skin, and the Green of your will. It is there I find color.

 

_There is no scent in my world, except in you._

I smell neither the tang of life or the decay of rot. The orchids and roses I pass are made of paper and silk, false substitutes for blossoms. The scents of nature are merely dust, and the surging ocean only wet. _Except..._

In the trace of your perfume as you go by, I find my sustenance, and only the frangrance of your hair makes me want to breathe.

 

_There is no taste in my world, except in you._

All I eat is cardboard and cloying clay, which I eat without pleasure, forcing myself to carry on, knowing that without nourishment there is no hope, but enjoying nothing. _Except..._

My food would come alone from the salty warmth of your skin, and all the sweetness I ever desired is on your lips.

 

_There is no softness in my world, except in you._

All that I touch is either hard, or rough, or sharp. Like Ariel, my feet are met with razorblades; I bed down on nails, and my seats are lined with broken glass. Everything in my world hurts, and it all makes my soul bleed. _Except..._

Your hair is a wave of silken strands; your skin is soft as warm satin. Your embrace is the only surcease I have from pain; and your kiss the only reason I live.

 

_There is no life in my world, except in you._

Friends and family are phantoms swirling around me, and strangers are even less. At least the phantoms mean no harm, but everyone else is but a shadow bearing daggers, and out for blood. _Except..._

You, and you alone, are real, and solid, and alive. The life in you calls out to the life in me, and your soul sings to mine. Outside the glow of your presence, I stand penitent, aching for the warmth of you, and dying, measure by measure, without you.

 

_There is no love in my world, except in you._

Abandoned, betrayed, and infirm, I have lived my life, and I never once thought that love would find me. I hung on stubbornly, intending that I would find a way to make something good of my wretched existence in this world, and failing for the most part. _Except..._

All the love I ever hoped for I found in your eyes, and the life I shared with you so briefly fulfilled a thousand prayers. Even knowing the pain of estrangement, I would grasp the flame again, to have known those few moments with you.

 

_There is no meaning in my world, except in you._

I bleed my life from a wound rent within me, the size, and shape of you. There is no color, no scent, no taste, nor softness, nor life, nor love in me. My world is drab, dull, bland, jagged, dead and lonely; _Except..._

You are my north, my sun, my joy, my rest, my very existence. All that I find good is from you, and without you, there is no meaning at all.

_Except..._

**_Except for all that I find in you._ **


End file.
